Post by Kyle Travis on Aug 22, 2015 14:08:37 GMT -6
::Kyle Travis sits in the corner of his trophy room, at the corner where the collages and the title belts. He is holding the crowbar upside down, the curved edge touching the floor.::
“You know what Bob Brooks, you and I seem to share one common trait.”
::He looks up and glances around the room filled with the memorabilia of his career.::
“Yes, I am a wrestling legend, who no matter what he accomplishes seemingly will never get any respect while the praises of others are spoken of in awe-filled reverence, married with a couple of kids, and who honestly has no real persona attachment to the UWA ajnd really have no reason have even come back except I was just so damn bored with the Children of Nephilim, and you are a no sketchy, slimy, little perverted no body who is wrapped around Lacey Robert’s finger so tightly you are cutting off circulation and you will do anything she asks for the promise of a slight glimpse of her sideboob, who mistakes going through trash, sniffing clothes or seats or restraining orders as signs of love, and who is legally required to introduce himself to his neighbors.”
“But despite all of those differences, we share one very important trait.”
“You and I, Bob, we are takers. Although, you will never truly be a taker, Bob, not like me, because you are incapable of truly being one. Most of these titles I had to take, not win or earn the shots, but flat out take because nearly every time I earned a shot, it went to someone else.”
“We know we are not going to be handed opportunities, no matter how much we deserve them. We know management is not going to look at us for a title shot when they could give it to one of their chosen darlings. We know, no matter what we do, no matter how good we show the world we are, we are going to get passed over for opportunity, after opportunity. We walk some kid fresh off the street get a title shot while we get passed over, but clearly he earned it, because he was able to push the door open, rather than spend five minutes trying to pull it open, and dressed himself this morning. We watch the same people week after week after week get to compete while we waste money on a plane ticket, rental car and hotel room to just sit around in the back. Even if we win, it doesn’t matter, because we know that no matter how impressive the victory or how many victories you actually attain, the opportunities we should be earning will go to someone else, who is either already here or who just walked through the door. And that, Bob, is why we go out and make our own opportunities. We take what no one will give us what we feel we have earned, so we have no other choice but to take it.”
“Time and time again, it has happened to me Bob. It happened in CEW, all the time in LAW, NEW and even here in the UWA. I have seen it time and time again.”
::He moves the crowbar a bit, gesturing to the titles.::
“In the CEW, I was wrestling two or three matches a night, and no matter how many matches I won, the company built itself around 300 pound wrestlers who swore like sailors every time a camera was on them or a mic was in their hands. They were given the exposure, the limelight, while anyone under the company’s cruiserweight limit of 230, then later 240 pounds, who were the workhorses, and didn’t need to swear every time they were allowed speak were treated like nothing. I lost the Cruiserweight Championship, without ever being pinned or made to tap out, because I lost to a Star Wars super nerd who complained that I wasn’t defending the title as often as I should, and the company had four other cruiserweights. But because a heavyweight, the god kings of the CEW, complained, I had to wrestle him, and if I lost, I forfeited the title, because that’s fair.”
::The slightest hint of anger starts to rise in Travis’s voice.::
“LAW was the same way. I was handed the Tag Team Championship when the champion, a man I thought was my friend needed a partner. I won the Marked Man Championship twice, once had it handed to me, and somehow lost it in a triple threat match to a guy who wasn’t even in the match. He just walked in and pinned me. He had no legal ability to do that, but the win stuck. Never mind it had been right after canceling a pay-per-view I was to challenge for the LAW Championship after a career threatening injury sidelined me for a few months. Never mind that as the LAW Marked Man Champion, I should have already had the shot at the event, but because it was me, and only because it was me, I had to earn it. I had to steal a man’s attire just to compete for the LAW Championship. I lived two steps forward, got back to start in the LAW for five years. For five damn years I played the whipping boy there. “Something went wrong? Well fire Kyle Travis? What? We just fired him, well rehire him, give him a chance to win a title shot, take it from him and fire him again.” And people wonder why I debated retirement after I was fired yet again after the same crap happened when the company was bought out and merged with a new company. Almost shocked I wasn’t rehired just so the whole process could start all over again.”
::“The Canadian Legend” takes a deep breath and sighs a bit, regaining his composure.::
“It even happened in ACW, where I had actually started trusting again. There I am, the world champion, getting pinned, my foot is on the bottom rope, and rather than acknowledge that everyone is pointing it out and restart the match, the referee just ignores it, because the guy I was wrestling I guess was a management darling, or
::There is a slight hint of anger in his voice again as he speaks.::
“And then was the NEW, with its giving title shots to the same people over and over again, holding the titles for the people management reserved to hold them, giving title shots to every newcomer who walked through the door. Never mind I wrestled week after week, never mind if I won or lost a match. No, as long as the title was by the guy the company wanted it to be worn by, or the guy fresh off the street was granted a title shot, and everyone was talking about how awesome one guys’ dick was, it was all good. It amazes me people defended that system, then again, those people who defended it were the chosen ones.”
“Oh, and lets not forget this company, UWA, where anyone can do whatever they want without any repercussions whatsoever, unless, of course it is me. Georgio Oliver is one of the most impotent, pathetic, miserable excuses of a owner I have ever worked for. I once, and you would think I would have learned by now, Bob, you really would but clearly not, I once trusted the man. Then I watched everyone get away with whatever they wanted, but the second I step out of line, and really, it’s like they had no idea who I was or that I could do anything like that, completely ignoring the entire previous 16 years of my career, I get in trouble.”
“I love how people are saying Georgio Oliver is laying down the law now. Mike Brady was more of an asskicker than Georgio Oliver is, or ever will be. Punch out a fan, smash an announcer in the face with a title, keep a hold on too long, assault a pregnant woman, it’s all good as long as you are not Kyle Travis, because him the UWA punishes while everyone gets a lecture. It’s nice to see that I got fined, taken out of matches, denied title shots, which I still am as he never officially rescinded the order, but everyone else who breaks a rule or does something here gets a 1950’s TV dad talking to.”
::Travis leans his head back in a cold, mocking laugh. He looks down at the crowbar with cold cruel eyes, twisting it a little as he lifts it off the floor.::
“To be honest, after I get done with the Children of Nephilim, I think I may have to turn my attention to Georgio Oliver, because quite frankly, he made me quite a few promises, and usually when a person in authority breaks their word to me, or decides to screw with me, I tend to get violent.”
::He smirks a bit.::
“You do realize that I get nothing out of this war with the Children of Nephilim other than the satisfaction of the mercy kill, don’t you? There’s not North American Championship opportunity for me waiting when I finish shedding Danika Bayne’s blood. There is not going to be a show at the Television Championship if I break Mikado’s legs. I am not getting an opportunity at the UWA Tag Team Championships for bludgeoning Bene Elohim. Sang Réal has that open contract of theirs and no one has signed it, yet I know that even if I sign it, and even if I did beat them in the match and earn the title shot, Georgio would move heaven and earth to screw me out of the shot. It also doesn’t help that I really do not like anyone in that entire locker room. And I damn sure know that when I end their pathetic leader, it will not get me a UWA World Championship title match. So, maybe, just maybe, after I end the so-called “ratings darlings” the Children of Nephilim are supposed to be despite not having any real matches and being nothing more than wannabe creepy emo twerps who have done nothing for almost a year and keep going for the same routine time and time again, maybe I take the crowbar to Georgio Oliver to FINALLY get him to keep his word. I am not taking them out for any reason other than my own.”
“That is why, Bob, I have to be a taker. I know I will never get the opportunities I deserve. I gave up trying to play by the rules a long time ago. I gave up trusting management a long time ago. Clearly, if I want the title matches I earn, if I want Georgio to rescind his decree that I can’t get a title shot, which he was supposed to do right after I beat Craven, but just never got around to it as he had to give some misbehavior a stern talking to. I may have to show him why he should fear me a hell of a lot more than Joshua McBride or the Children. They can only abduct him, tie him up and make him squeal like a pig because McBride was essentially a reject from Deliverance and abduction and mind games are the only play the Children of Nephilim have, where as I am more willing to torture him, mentally and physically to get what I want.”
::Travis lifts his head up from looking at the crowbar and gets to his feet.::
“Bob, look at yourself. How long have you waited for your moment, you chance? How long have you been pushed to the sidelines, waiting for an opportunity that should have been yours? Far too long I would imagine. But you are not a true taker. You never will be.”
::There is almost a sympathetic tone in his voice, as rare and as incredible as it may sound, it is indeed there.::
“The only title shot you were ever given was over a year ago, at Raising Hell. You lost, and even though Amy Zing said she was willing to defend the title against anyone, no matter how many matches you won, you never got any closer. They never gave you a shot at her championship. How many matches did you even get after Raising Hell anyway? I think you vanished for months. I honestly don’t recall seeing you until Lacey started her issues with Amy Zing. Even then, even after you attacked here, where was Bob’s moment? Where was Bob’s opportunity?”
“You and Lacey Roberts beat Sang Réal, the current reigning UWA Tag Team Champions. Yes, it was by a count out, but how many times have you seen someone gain a countout victory over a champion and get a title shot? Yet, did you and Lacey get a shot? No you did not. Did you ever get a reason? I cannot possibly imagine Lacey being Television Champion at the time had anything to do with it as both Ashley and Bethany Kenyon were allowed to pursue singles titles while UWA Tag Team Champions, which they both won, and were allowed to keep despite having the Tag Team Championships. So it clearly could not have been some sort of double standard thing, except that it really seems like it could have been.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, poor, forgotten Bob Brooks.”
::Slowly, “the Once and Future King” shakes his head, almost like he is sincerely sympathetic towards Bob Brooks’ being overlooked for so very long.::
“So of course you had to do what you did Bob. You watched as Amy Zing, someone you felt didn’t deserve a title shot, but also a chance to make history in the first championship rematch in UWA history. You watched as Amy Zing ended Lacey’s title reign. You watched as she won the title, becoming the first and only two-time champion in UWA history. Not only that, but she did it by injuring Lacey. So you beat the hell out of her and stole the UWA Television Championship.”
::All traces of sympathy fade from Travis’s voice.::
“Personally, I like the added delusion of grandeur that you actually seem to believe you are the legitimate UWA Television Championship. You actually walk around like you won the title from Amy Zing in a legitimate match. Personally, it’s refreshing to see that level of delusion in someone most of us have just written off as a sketchy pervert like yourself. And I have to admit that since stealing the UWA Television Championship you have racked up quite a few wins, like beating Vince Jones and handing Danika Bayne her first loss.”
“It’s a shame those wins will probably not matter though, isn’t it?”
::Again, Travis smirks. It is arrogant, but somehow, like him, still cold, and still creul.::
“You see, Bob, there is a good chance that Amy Zing will return. She will come back to the UWA and she will want her title back. Now maybe this leads to a match between you two and maybe you win and actually become champion. Or maybe you lose, she stays champion and you get to be Lacey Roberts’ bitch when she gets back, all your previous accomplishments forgotten, overlooked and ignored as we watch the same people get all the chance we should have earned. You will just go back to being a pathetic perverted little no body, until you either grow a pair and try to take your opportunity, or the UWA cuts you lose.”
“And that, Bob, is a difference between us. You are a parasite, clinging to Lacey Roberts, driven by a devotion that she will never give back to you. You are the Renfield to her Count Dracula. You are her devoted minion. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.”
::Travis pauses for a moment, thinking about the situation.::
“Actually, it is pretty funny.”
::He starts to chuckle a bit. That chuckle soon changes into a cold, cruel, mocking laughter. After a moment, Travis stops, making the motion of wiping a fake tear away from his face.::
“So after a year, Bob Brooks’ balls finally dropped and he is ready to wear big boy pants now?”
::Again, Travis chuckles a bit.::
“Well that is, of course, until Lacey Roberts returns, then you are right back to being her little puppet. And that, Bob, is why you will never be anything. That is why you will never get opportunities.”
“Let us say that you do beat Amy Zing and become the UWA Television Champion, making your delusion ramblings about being a champion a reality. Yes, you will be a champion. But you will be a champion only until Lacey Roberts gets back.”
“The second she returns, you are going to meet her in the ring or backstage or wherever, drop to your knees and present her with the Television Championship like a guy proposing marriage. The entire world can already see it coming. I mean a few weeks ago, you yourself said you were holding the title for her, waiting for her to come back. Yes Bob, Lacey will come back, and I am more than certain she will accept the UWA Television Championship when you forfeit it to her, if you win it. She will smile, and maybe pat you on the head like the good dog you are. Maybe she’ll smile or let you have one of her bras or something to satisfy you, you filthy little pervert, but you will have given up all that you worked for. And when that happens, every single victory you racked up during that time will count for nothing.”
“There will be no title shot for Bob Brooks after that. He will slink back behind his camera, watching his mistress rise as far as Georgio allows her to rise, while you get nothing except what she casts down for you to have. You are the dog begging for scraps at a table, pathetic, whimpering and yet, still undeniably loyal.”
“That, Bob, is why you are not, nor will you very be, a true taker. Maybe you win the title, all that work, all the patience and dedication leading to that one moment when you etch your name into the history of the UWA forever as someone who won the Television Championship, and you will waste it all the second you hand the title to Lacey.”
“And that is why you are never going to be a taker Bob. That is why you will never amount to anything. We stand in your fifteen minutes of fame and your time is running out. Maybe it will be when Amy gets back, or maybe it will be when Lacey Roberts returns and you go back to being her bootlick, either way, Bob, time is up, you sad, little, delusional, perverted little lapdog.”
::Travis chuckles again. Once more that chukle turns to a cold, cruel, joyless, mocking laughter. The scene fades to black on Travis launghing at Brooks.::
“You know what Bob Brooks, you and I seem to share one common trait.”
::He looks up and glances around the room filled with the memorabilia of his career.::
“Yes, I am a wrestling legend, who no matter what he accomplishes seemingly will never get any respect while the praises of others are spoken of in awe-filled reverence, married with a couple of kids, and who honestly has no real persona attachment to the UWA ajnd really have no reason have even come back except I was just so damn bored with the Children of Nephilim, and you are a no sketchy, slimy, little perverted no body who is wrapped around Lacey Robert’s finger so tightly you are cutting off circulation and you will do anything she asks for the promise of a slight glimpse of her sideboob, who mistakes going through trash, sniffing clothes or seats or restraining orders as signs of love, and who is legally required to introduce himself to his neighbors.”
“But despite all of those differences, we share one very important trait.”
“You and I, Bob, we are takers. Although, you will never truly be a taker, Bob, not like me, because you are incapable of truly being one. Most of these titles I had to take, not win or earn the shots, but flat out take because nearly every time I earned a shot, it went to someone else.”
“We know we are not going to be handed opportunities, no matter how much we deserve them. We know management is not going to look at us for a title shot when they could give it to one of their chosen darlings. We know, no matter what we do, no matter how good we show the world we are, we are going to get passed over for opportunity, after opportunity. We walk some kid fresh off the street get a title shot while we get passed over, but clearly he earned it, because he was able to push the door open, rather than spend five minutes trying to pull it open, and dressed himself this morning. We watch the same people week after week after week get to compete while we waste money on a plane ticket, rental car and hotel room to just sit around in the back. Even if we win, it doesn’t matter, because we know that no matter how impressive the victory or how many victories you actually attain, the opportunities we should be earning will go to someone else, who is either already here or who just walked through the door. And that, Bob, is why we go out and make our own opportunities. We take what no one will give us what we feel we have earned, so we have no other choice but to take it.”
“Time and time again, it has happened to me Bob. It happened in CEW, all the time in LAW, NEW and even here in the UWA. I have seen it time and time again.”
::He moves the crowbar a bit, gesturing to the titles.::
“In the CEW, I was wrestling two or three matches a night, and no matter how many matches I won, the company built itself around 300 pound wrestlers who swore like sailors every time a camera was on them or a mic was in their hands. They were given the exposure, the limelight, while anyone under the company’s cruiserweight limit of 230, then later 240 pounds, who were the workhorses, and didn’t need to swear every time they were allowed speak were treated like nothing. I lost the Cruiserweight Championship, without ever being pinned or made to tap out, because I lost to a Star Wars super nerd who complained that I wasn’t defending the title as often as I should, and the company had four other cruiserweights. But because a heavyweight, the god kings of the CEW, complained, I had to wrestle him, and if I lost, I forfeited the title, because that’s fair.”
::The slightest hint of anger starts to rise in Travis’s voice.::
“LAW was the same way. I was handed the Tag Team Championship when the champion, a man I thought was my friend needed a partner. I won the Marked Man Championship twice, once had it handed to me, and somehow lost it in a triple threat match to a guy who wasn’t even in the match. He just walked in and pinned me. He had no legal ability to do that, but the win stuck. Never mind it had been right after canceling a pay-per-view I was to challenge for the LAW Championship after a career threatening injury sidelined me for a few months. Never mind that as the LAW Marked Man Champion, I should have already had the shot at the event, but because it was me, and only because it was me, I had to earn it. I had to steal a man’s attire just to compete for the LAW Championship. I lived two steps forward, got back to start in the LAW for five years. For five damn years I played the whipping boy there. “Something went wrong? Well fire Kyle Travis? What? We just fired him, well rehire him, give him a chance to win a title shot, take it from him and fire him again.” And people wonder why I debated retirement after I was fired yet again after the same crap happened when the company was bought out and merged with a new company. Almost shocked I wasn’t rehired just so the whole process could start all over again.”
::“The Canadian Legend” takes a deep breath and sighs a bit, regaining his composure.::
“It even happened in ACW, where I had actually started trusting again. There I am, the world champion, getting pinned, my foot is on the bottom rope, and rather than acknowledge that everyone is pointing it out and restart the match, the referee just ignores it, because the guy I was wrestling I guess was a management darling, or
::There is a slight hint of anger in his voice again as he speaks.::
“And then was the NEW, with its giving title shots to the same people over and over again, holding the titles for the people management reserved to hold them, giving title shots to every newcomer who walked through the door. Never mind I wrestled week after week, never mind if I won or lost a match. No, as long as the title was by the guy the company wanted it to be worn by, or the guy fresh off the street was granted a title shot, and everyone was talking about how awesome one guys’ dick was, it was all good. It amazes me people defended that system, then again, those people who defended it were the chosen ones.”
“Oh, and lets not forget this company, UWA, where anyone can do whatever they want without any repercussions whatsoever, unless, of course it is me. Georgio Oliver is one of the most impotent, pathetic, miserable excuses of a owner I have ever worked for. I once, and you would think I would have learned by now, Bob, you really would but clearly not, I once trusted the man. Then I watched everyone get away with whatever they wanted, but the second I step out of line, and really, it’s like they had no idea who I was or that I could do anything like that, completely ignoring the entire previous 16 years of my career, I get in trouble.”
“I love how people are saying Georgio Oliver is laying down the law now. Mike Brady was more of an asskicker than Georgio Oliver is, or ever will be. Punch out a fan, smash an announcer in the face with a title, keep a hold on too long, assault a pregnant woman, it’s all good as long as you are not Kyle Travis, because him the UWA punishes while everyone gets a lecture. It’s nice to see that I got fined, taken out of matches, denied title shots, which I still am as he never officially rescinded the order, but everyone else who breaks a rule or does something here gets a 1950’s TV dad talking to.”
::Travis leans his head back in a cold, mocking laugh. He looks down at the crowbar with cold cruel eyes, twisting it a little as he lifts it off the floor.::
“To be honest, after I get done with the Children of Nephilim, I think I may have to turn my attention to Georgio Oliver, because quite frankly, he made me quite a few promises, and usually when a person in authority breaks their word to me, or decides to screw with me, I tend to get violent.”
::He smirks a bit.::
“You do realize that I get nothing out of this war with the Children of Nephilim other than the satisfaction of the mercy kill, don’t you? There’s not North American Championship opportunity for me waiting when I finish shedding Danika Bayne’s blood. There is not going to be a show at the Television Championship if I break Mikado’s legs. I am not getting an opportunity at the UWA Tag Team Championships for bludgeoning Bene Elohim. Sang Réal has that open contract of theirs and no one has signed it, yet I know that even if I sign it, and even if I did beat them in the match and earn the title shot, Georgio would move heaven and earth to screw me out of the shot. It also doesn’t help that I really do not like anyone in that entire locker room. And I damn sure know that when I end their pathetic leader, it will not get me a UWA World Championship title match. So, maybe, just maybe, after I end the so-called “ratings darlings” the Children of Nephilim are supposed to be despite not having any real matches and being nothing more than wannabe creepy emo twerps who have done nothing for almost a year and keep going for the same routine time and time again, maybe I take the crowbar to Georgio Oliver to FINALLY get him to keep his word. I am not taking them out for any reason other than my own.”
“That is why, Bob, I have to be a taker. I know I will never get the opportunities I deserve. I gave up trying to play by the rules a long time ago. I gave up trusting management a long time ago. Clearly, if I want the title matches I earn, if I want Georgio to rescind his decree that I can’t get a title shot, which he was supposed to do right after I beat Craven, but just never got around to it as he had to give some misbehavior a stern talking to. I may have to show him why he should fear me a hell of a lot more than Joshua McBride or the Children. They can only abduct him, tie him up and make him squeal like a pig because McBride was essentially a reject from Deliverance and abduction and mind games are the only play the Children of Nephilim have, where as I am more willing to torture him, mentally and physically to get what I want.”
::Travis lifts his head up from looking at the crowbar and gets to his feet.::
“Bob, look at yourself. How long have you waited for your moment, you chance? How long have you been pushed to the sidelines, waiting for an opportunity that should have been yours? Far too long I would imagine. But you are not a true taker. You never will be.”
::There is almost a sympathetic tone in his voice, as rare and as incredible as it may sound, it is indeed there.::
“The only title shot you were ever given was over a year ago, at Raising Hell. You lost, and even though Amy Zing said she was willing to defend the title against anyone, no matter how many matches you won, you never got any closer. They never gave you a shot at her championship. How many matches did you even get after Raising Hell anyway? I think you vanished for months. I honestly don’t recall seeing you until Lacey started her issues with Amy Zing. Even then, even after you attacked here, where was Bob’s moment? Where was Bob’s opportunity?”
“You and Lacey Roberts beat Sang Réal, the current reigning UWA Tag Team Champions. Yes, it was by a count out, but how many times have you seen someone gain a countout victory over a champion and get a title shot? Yet, did you and Lacey get a shot? No you did not. Did you ever get a reason? I cannot possibly imagine Lacey being Television Champion at the time had anything to do with it as both Ashley and Bethany Kenyon were allowed to pursue singles titles while UWA Tag Team Champions, which they both won, and were allowed to keep despite having the Tag Team Championships. So it clearly could not have been some sort of double standard thing, except that it really seems like it could have been.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, poor, forgotten Bob Brooks.”
::Slowly, “the Once and Future King” shakes his head, almost like he is sincerely sympathetic towards Bob Brooks’ being overlooked for so very long.::
“So of course you had to do what you did Bob. You watched as Amy Zing, someone you felt didn’t deserve a title shot, but also a chance to make history in the first championship rematch in UWA history. You watched as Amy Zing ended Lacey’s title reign. You watched as she won the title, becoming the first and only two-time champion in UWA history. Not only that, but she did it by injuring Lacey. So you beat the hell out of her and stole the UWA Television Championship.”
::All traces of sympathy fade from Travis’s voice.::
“Personally, I like the added delusion of grandeur that you actually seem to believe you are the legitimate UWA Television Championship. You actually walk around like you won the title from Amy Zing in a legitimate match. Personally, it’s refreshing to see that level of delusion in someone most of us have just written off as a sketchy pervert like yourself. And I have to admit that since stealing the UWA Television Championship you have racked up quite a few wins, like beating Vince Jones and handing Danika Bayne her first loss.”
“It’s a shame those wins will probably not matter though, isn’t it?”
::Again, Travis smirks. It is arrogant, but somehow, like him, still cold, and still creul.::
“You see, Bob, there is a good chance that Amy Zing will return. She will come back to the UWA and she will want her title back. Now maybe this leads to a match between you two and maybe you win and actually become champion. Or maybe you lose, she stays champion and you get to be Lacey Roberts’ bitch when she gets back, all your previous accomplishments forgotten, overlooked and ignored as we watch the same people get all the chance we should have earned. You will just go back to being a pathetic perverted little no body, until you either grow a pair and try to take your opportunity, or the UWA cuts you lose.”
“And that, Bob, is a difference between us. You are a parasite, clinging to Lacey Roberts, driven by a devotion that she will never give back to you. You are the Renfield to her Count Dracula. You are her devoted minion. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.”
::Travis pauses for a moment, thinking about the situation.::
“Actually, it is pretty funny.”
::He starts to chuckle a bit. That chuckle soon changes into a cold, cruel, mocking laughter. After a moment, Travis stops, making the motion of wiping a fake tear away from his face.::
“So after a year, Bob Brooks’ balls finally dropped and he is ready to wear big boy pants now?”
::Again, Travis chuckles a bit.::
“Well that is, of course, until Lacey Roberts returns, then you are right back to being her little puppet. And that, Bob, is why you will never be anything. That is why you will never get opportunities.”
“Let us say that you do beat Amy Zing and become the UWA Television Champion, making your delusion ramblings about being a champion a reality. Yes, you will be a champion. But you will be a champion only until Lacey Roberts gets back.”
“The second she returns, you are going to meet her in the ring or backstage or wherever, drop to your knees and present her with the Television Championship like a guy proposing marriage. The entire world can already see it coming. I mean a few weeks ago, you yourself said you were holding the title for her, waiting for her to come back. Yes Bob, Lacey will come back, and I am more than certain she will accept the UWA Television Championship when you forfeit it to her, if you win it. She will smile, and maybe pat you on the head like the good dog you are. Maybe she’ll smile or let you have one of her bras or something to satisfy you, you filthy little pervert, but you will have given up all that you worked for. And when that happens, every single victory you racked up during that time will count for nothing.”
“There will be no title shot for Bob Brooks after that. He will slink back behind his camera, watching his mistress rise as far as Georgio allows her to rise, while you get nothing except what she casts down for you to have. You are the dog begging for scraps at a table, pathetic, whimpering and yet, still undeniably loyal.”
“That, Bob, is why you are not, nor will you very be, a true taker. Maybe you win the title, all that work, all the patience and dedication leading to that one moment when you etch your name into the history of the UWA forever as someone who won the Television Championship, and you will waste it all the second you hand the title to Lacey.”
“And that is why you are never going to be a taker Bob. That is why you will never amount to anything. We stand in your fifteen minutes of fame and your time is running out. Maybe it will be when Amy gets back, or maybe it will be when Lacey Roberts returns and you go back to being her bootlick, either way, Bob, time is up, you sad, little, delusional, perverted little lapdog.”
::Travis chuckles again. Once more that chukle turns to a cold, cruel, joyless, mocking laughter. The scene fades to black on Travis launghing at Brooks.::